GUILT
by Elszy
Summary: a short scene taking place after Wild Justice


I watched Wild Justice the other day, and this is set after that eventful day. It inspired me to do a little musing of my own.

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**GUILT**

_Guilt is a strong emotion. Next to jealousy perhaps the strongest._

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'Hey… you're miles away,' Sally said a bit plaintively. 'I thought we were in for a good time, but you have been brooding ever since we got home.'

Doyle had the presence of mind to look caught in the act. Sally was right. It should have been a nice Saturday, and it would have been until Bodie took him to the race ground and made him compete with the bikers. It had all turned out to be a setup. Bodie had planned it all along. He just needed Ray to drive up there so he'd have a legitimate reason to join the bike runs.

Cowley had been furious. Threatened even to blow Bodie's brains out and he certainly didn't look like he had been kidding. Bodie had crossed the line. Doyle couldn't get his mind around it. He had seen Bodie moving closely towards the edge on various occasions but he had never expected his partner to shut him out like this. If only he had told him about his suspicions. If only Cheryl would have come forward - CI5 would have protected her. Where regular police often stood powerless, the special squad had just a little extra to add.

But no - Bodie had chosen to carry that yuk on his own shoulders and not share the burden. Doyle could only guess as to the why. Bodie knew very well he was playing with fire. Getting in a brawl - or for better choice of words - deliberately causing a fight would get him a reprimand and a suspension. Deliberately blowing regulations in the wind, not going by the book and ignoring justice was certain to get him kicked off the force.

During the training sessions he had seen how absent-minded Bodie was, but he contributed it to stress, even being over the hill. Bodie was on the verge of cracking, Bodie was too old, Bodie wasn't capable enough anymore… even he, Ray, had thought likewise. It was hard to admit to himself that he had given three names to Cowley as partners on an assignment - and Bodie wasn't amongst them.

He had doubted his friend.

He had actually doubted his capacities. One of the best men in the squad, and he had hesitated to pull him into his team.

Suddenly, Doyle felt ridden with guilt.

Sally shook his arm. 'Hey…'

'Sorry Sal. Listen love, there's something I've got to do and it can't wait until tomorrow. I'll drop you off at home, alright? I promise I'll make it up to you.'

'Ray Doyle…' she began warningly.

'Sally…' he pleaded.

Something in the way he said it, made her sigh and nod. 'Alright then. Since you're no fun anyway…' Her finger shot up, holding still in front of his eyes. 'You take me out next time you've got the weekend off?'

'Scout's honour,' promised Doyle. 'You're a doll, Sally.' He kissed her, got up and a few minutes later the two of them went their own way.

A taxi stood waiting outside Bodie's place. Just as Doyle parked his Capri on the opposite side of the street, the front door opened and Bodie and a short girl with long red hair came out. From where he sat, Doyle recognised her from earlier that day. It was Cheryl, Keith Williams' fiancé. Bodie, clad in a comfortable white bathrobe and barefooted, put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her tenderly on her forehead and pushed a lock of her long hair aside, a gentle smile on his face. She put her arms around him, hugged him and then, after a kiss on the cheek, she left. Bodie stayed in the door opening, lit by the light in the hallway. He waited until Cheryl sat in the taxi and it drove off.

-.-.-.-

Bodie turned and got back in the house. The light in the hall dimmed and Doyle could see the shadow of Bodie's form behind the windows in the living. He thought about what he'd seen. It was to be expected that Bodie'd get into bed with Cheryl, but something told him the two hadn't had sex. There was a gentleness that Doyle had seen in the way Bodie had spoken to Cheryl, in the way he had touched her forehead with his lips. It was protective rather than sensual. It was Bodie's caring side that showed.

Doyle sat for a while longer, then got out of the car and pushed the door bell. Ten seconds later the door opened and Bodie looked him straight into the eye.

'Ray.' He was surprised.

'Hey Bodie.'

'Something wrong?' Typically Bodie. 'You okay? The Cow?'

'No, no,' smiled Doyle. 'Everything's fine. I just came to see how you are.'

Bodie opened the door. 'Enter, ye bringer of goode tidings.'

'Are you drunk?'

'No. I take offence to that, sunshine,' said Bodie with a grin. 'Beer? Scotch?'

'Beer,' nodded Doyle and sat down.

Bodie handed him a can and sat down. He appeared relaxed. Actually, he looked like he always did when he had time off: good-humoured and at ease.

'What is it, Ray? Come on. Out with it.' Bodie took a sip from his beer. 'You're here to see how I am. Well?'

'You're fine, by the looks of it. Did I just see Cheryl leaving?'

'Ah…' Bodie pouted his lips. 'You're here about this afternoon.'

'Yes.'

'How long have you been standing outside?'

'Not long. I just arrived when you said goodbye,' Doyle admitted.

'Where you spying on me?'

'No. Bodie - why didn't you tell me? You took a hell of a risk today. Lately. Getting in contact with those Hell's Angels wasn't without danger.'

Now Bodie's calm face changed and he looked agitated. Not with Ray, but with the whole situation. 'Ray, there was no proof, not on paper. I owed Keith from the time we were in the same platoon and when I ran into Cheryl, I had to do something. She and Keith - they were a nice couple. With plans for the future, a house, a family… Keith was killed and she was devastated. When she told me she had seen the killers I did a bit of research.'

Bodie sighed deeply. Doyle savoured the bittersweet taste of the lager and said: 'What'd you find?'

'That there was no proof and that Cheryl had been threatened. She was scared shitless. Received written threats, phone calls, dead animals on her doormat, a severed finger in her mail, etcetera.' Bodie squashed the empty can to a heap and aimed for the bin in the corner. He missed. 'I had to do something.'

'Why didn't you report it to Cowley? I'm sure CI5 would have been able to help.'

'Yeah, able to. Willing to? My past is my past, Ray. All the men in my platoon are dead. Natural causes, mostly. Some not so natural. The death of Keith got to me, I can't deny. Seemed only logical my number was up. If I were to go, then why not go with a bang?'

'Are you bonkers?' Doyle couldn't believe his ears. 'What kind of death wish is that?'

'Do not confuse sense of reality with a death wish,' Bodie snarled back. 'I owed Keith. He saved my life when I screwed up and he ended up in hospital himself. He was never the same afterwards. He left the service a broken man. When I met Cheryl I finally had a chance to do something back.'

'And do what? Redeem yourself?'

'Quit the psychological crap, Ray. Not everything goes back to raging family members, drunks or childhood abuse. Sometimes it's just necessary. One of those things you feel you must do.'

Doyle put his can down hard. Beer spat out through the tiny opening. 'You moron. _One of those things you must do?_ Is that what you tell yourself? How about justice? Why not ask me to help if you wanted to do this outside the bureau?'

'Because I didn't want to get you involved!' Bodie got angry. 'Don't you see? I knew very well I was doing something CI5 wouldn't approve. If it meant getting kicked out, so be it. But that doesn't mean you had to lose your job over _my_ problems!'

'You could have gotten yourself killed,' Doyle spat.

'That's better than losing a mate,' Bodie retaliated. He closed his eyes and leant back in the couch. 'I thought I'd feel relieved once it was out,' he said. 'King Billy and the others arrested should mean closure, shouldn't it?'

Doyle didn't answer. He sat still and looked at Bodie contemplating the events of the day. Bodie didn't often open up like this, but when he did Doyle saw how vulnerable he really was underneath that hard shell.

'It only helps a little, Ray. I haven't thought about the platoon for years, but since I heard Keith had died, I can't stop thinking about it. I keep reliving the past. Keith running toward me to help me, the grenade, his slow recovery… it's like a movie, rerunning again and again. It should have been me instead of him.'

'What would have you done had it been the other way around? Would you have reacted the same way Keith did?'

That took a while for Bodie to process. 'Yes,' he said after a long silence. 'I guess so.'

'So, why feel guilty? He acted in a split second, the same way you would have.'

'It's not guilt,' Bodie said with a sigh. 'It's… it's…'

'It's guilt, my friend. Guilt is a strong emotion,' Doyle said. 'We all experience it, and it makes us what we are. If you wouldn't feel guilt, you'd be unfit for this line of work. As long as you do, you know you're still human.'

That brought a little smile to Bodie's sombre face. 'That's deep, goldilocks.'

Doyle smiled back. 'Plain and simple logic.'

'Yeah, sure, Doctor Freud. Why are you here again?'

'To see how you are, I told you.'

'Out of some misplaced sense of guilt perhaps?' Bodie inquired airily. 'Perhaps you feel guilty for snapping at me during training? Doubting me?'

_You don't know half of it. _'Oh, stop it. Drink your beer.'

'Don't forget, Ray. Guilt is a strong emotion,' Bodie said and, in typical Bodie-style, his tone changed from light-hearted to serious within the same sentence.

'The strongest,' Doyle agreed and heaved his can.

''I'll drink to that,' Bodie nodded. 'If I had something to drink.' He got up, went into the kitchen and came back with two more beers. 'Cheers mate,' he said when he had opened the can.

'Cheers sunshine.'

'Thanks for coming.'

'Anytime.'

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Elszy May 2010


End file.
